


It's been 800 years

by TonalModulator



Series: Clockwork Consort [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Alcohol, Almalexia is also discussed, Canonical Character Death, Reminiscing, Sotha Dad, Sotha Sil has a family again, Sotha Sil is the main focus but doesn't appear because he's dead, a ton of people are mentioned, the Fyr(/Sotha) girls are a chaotic influence on the Clockwork City and Seht loves them so much, vaguely/lightly implied/referenced recklessness as self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 01:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19802155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonalModulator/pseuds/TonalModulator
Summary: Divayth Fyr learns that Sotha Sil is dead. He and his daughters reminisce and try to cope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess this sort of came out of me trying to crack Divayth's shell a bit, since he plays himself off as a Big Mean Chaotic Neutral Wizard Who Doesn't Care About Anyone, but then whenever it might actually matter, he reveals himself to Actually Care A Lot (even when he cushions it in insults just to be safe). So, naturally, I figured the surest way to break his shell is to fast forward to when his boyfriend dies, I guess?
> 
> Some things:
> 
>   * This assumes they basically broke up at the end of the ESO: Clockwork City questline, because Divayth says he's probably not coming back to the City, and Sotha Sil says they won't meet again. But since they both seemed kind of sad but at peace with it, I figured it was probably like a mutual agreement, but probably suggested by Sil to a) keep Divayth safely out of the impending Summerset dangers, and b) focus basically all of his energy on his city.
>   * Luciana is already like 750 by CWC, so I figured another 800 years would be no problem.
>   * Writing this made me wonder how much the citizens of CWC know about anything going on in Nirn-Above.
>   * Please don't read anything weird into Divayth and his clone-daughters if you can help it. I really don't subscribe at all to the idea that they're anything but his kids
>     * (Mostly I've always thought giving him four daughters genetically identical to himself was the writers' way of semi-subtly making a prominent trans character and then quadrupling down on it, so it's kind of extra uncomfortable to see the "they're totally his wives" takes.)
>   * It's totally possible that the Fyr girls weren't around yet by ESO and never met Sotha Sil, but it's also totally possible that they _were_ around, and I really wanted to explore Sotha Dad stuff. (Luciana thought _one_ Divayth Fyr in the CWC was bad...).
> 


Divayth Fyr looked up from his work with a start when his projection device flickered to life. The signature on the incoming projection was one he hadn't seen in over eight centuries, but he immediately recognized it as coming from Sotha Sil, or more specifically, from the Cogitum Centralis in the Clockwork City. How odd. He wondered what could inspire Sil to contact him after so long apart. But whatever the cause, it was certainly welcome. Divayth instinctively neatened his hair and brushed the dust off his cuirass as he waited for the projection to fully form.

But it was not his old friend and partner whose ethereal form stood before him.

"Proctor Luciana," he said, trying to conceal the confusion in his voice. "It's been a while."

"It has." The Apostle studied the projection of the old mer she'd consistently butted heads with throughout his relationship with the Clockwork God. It looked like Fyr's 4,000 years were starting to catch up with him, although she had heard he was mentally just as sharp as ever, apparently having been the leading researcher into stopping some sort of Blight that had recently plagued Morrowind.

"Well, I doubt this is a social call. What can I do for you?" Divayth asked. "And, _where_ are you? I thought Sil's projection device was built into the Throne Aligned."

"You're correct on both counts," Luciana replied. She broke eye contact rather than let his discerning gaze break her, and took a breath before looking back to him. "I'll get right to the point. Sotha Sil is dead."

The words hit him like frostbite venom coursing through his veins. He wasn't sure what he was expecting the proctor to say, but it wasn't this.

Luciana continued. "Almalexia killed him. Seems she had grown paranoid over the years and was convinced that the decline of her power was Lord Seht's doing. So she got her hands on an artifact created by Barilzar, the rogue-Apostle-turned-lich, that would get her into the City, and she killed him."

"Where is she now?" Divayth asked, his voice unexpectedly quiet.

"She's dead now too. After she killed him, she blew a hole through the Incarnatorium straight into Mournhold and released fabricants on her own city, apparently hoping it would make her people hate Seht so she could secure their sole devotion. Then she came back lured a mortal here, who she planned on killing and framing for Lord Seht's murder. But the mortal fought back and killed her instead." She sighed and rested her face in her hand. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

"Yes, I'm sure it has," Divayth said absently, staring off to the side. Perhaps it was his own personal attachments clouding his judgment, but Divayth couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Luciana and the Clockwork Apostles, despite his aversion to religious adulation. His focus returned when he had processed what Luciana had said. "A mortal?"

Luciana nodded. "One who's been causing quite a stir on the surface, from what I hear—which is, admittedly, little." She glanced over her shoulder before continuing quietly. "Scuttlebutt is that it was the reincarnation of Saint Nerevar. Of course, it's blasphemous to even entertain those prophecies. Not that that matters anymore." She laughed mirthlessly and glanced down at something on the floor outside the projection's range.

Divayth couldn't see what she was looking at, but he assumed it was Sotha Sil's corpse. A question occurred to him. "What will happen with his remains?"

"Actually, that's part of the reason I'm contacting you. People don't frequently die in the Clockwork City, and even when they do, their remains are usually sent back to their family on the surface. Of course, Lord Seht's ancestral home was destroyed a long time ago. The next obvious choice would have been to leave his remains in the care of the Temple priests and House Indoril, but...I don't know how much longer the Tribunal Temple is going to exist, such as it is. And it especially feels wrong to hand his body over to the House of his murderer."

"I may not be a Dunmer, but I know how important it is for your people's remains to return to their family," she continued. "You and your daughters are the closest he had to family. Would you bear that responsibility?"

"I would be honored," Divayth said in nearly a whisper, his voice breaking partway through. "I can come to collect his remains as early as tomorrow, if you'll be ready."

"Thank you, Divayth," Luciana said with more sincerity than he could ever remember hearing from her.

"Yes, of course. And thank you for contacting me." He sniffed and wiped his eyes quickly. "Well. That's quite enough display of emotion for one day, I think."

"Agreed. Until tomorrow, then," Luciana nodded impassively, and then her projection vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

For several moments after the projection of Proctor Luciana disappeared, Divayth simply stood, staring at some point in space of no particular interest, his mind numb. Then he slowly began walking out of his study toward the shaft of the tower.

"Alfe?" he called at barely more than a conversational volume.

His daughter appeared in the doorway of the far room, wearing an expression of concerned curiosity. Her concern only grew upon seeing her father. One didn't need to be his clone to realize that something was very wrong, but it heightened Alfe's sense of urgency all the same. He was taking small, shuffling steps, staring at the floor, his shoulders drooped as though it took a noticeable effort to bear the weight of his Daedric pauldrons, and his voice lacked its usual energy.

"Gather your sisters and meet me in Onyx Hall for tea, would you? Thank you." Without waiting for an answer, he descended the shaft by stepping off the edge and casting slowfall on the way down. It was a manner of descent seen only in two types of people: 4,000-year-old wizards confident in their craft, and anyone who did not particularly care for their own safety. It was unclear which category better described Divayth Fyr at that moment.

He shuffled the rest of the way to the kitchen like a factotum doing its programmed function. He put a kettle of water on the stove and turned to the cabinet that housed a sample of the safer alchemical supplies that were set aside for use in teas and other semi-mundane purposes. He measured out portions of sweetpulp, hackle-lo leaf, and saltrice, and set to crushing each into a consistency that could be steeped effectively.

Divayth joined his daughters at the table once they arrived. Alfe had clearly warned them about his state, as her sisters all shared her concerned expression. He went to speak, but remembered that he hadn't yet planned what he was going to say. How could he tell them that Sotha Sil—Sotha Dad, as they called him, even now—was dead? Directness was probably best, since none of them had ever been the type for sugar-coating things.

"I've just received some upsetting news," he began. "Sotha Dad is dead. He's been killed. It seems Ayem finally snapped." He recounted what he had learned from Luciana. His daughters' expressions went from concerned to devastated as he spoke, and he felt his heart break again for each of them.

They sat in silence for a time. Divayth didn't even notice that the kettle had started whistling or that Beyte had gotten up to take care of it until she spoke.

"What, are you trying to literally numb the pain? You do know that's not how it works, right?" She was looking over the ingredients that her father had gotten out for the tea.

Divayth shrugged. "It's restorative, too. And the sweetpulp has some anti-paralytic properties anyway. It'll be fine."

Beyte scoffed and shook her head. "Sure, enough anti-paralytic properties to help it wear off sometime next week." She put the hackle-lo away and took out some minced corkbulb root instead. Divayth had gotten up and was now hovering by the ingredient cabinet and judging her selections in retaliation for her doing the same to him.

"I wonder where she gets it from," Delte said in a deadpan.

"There. This should have enough sweetpulp to still carry a bit of a tingle, if that's what you're going for," Beyte said, pouring the hot water over the ingredients with an implied finality that Divayth seemed to miss.

"Except I don't care about the healing properties of saltrice. I had it in there to mix with the hackle-lo to restore energy. Now you've lost the point of the hackle-lo _and_ the saltrice."

Beyte turned back to the cabinets and took out a muffin. "A muffin gives you energy too, and luckily, I happen to have one right here," she said, shoving the muffin at him. "Eat up. Really. I can't imagine how you're feeling, but you look like you could use the energy. And _sit down_ , Dad. I can handle tea."

He couldn't exactly argue with her reasoning, and so he took the muffin and returned to his seat.

"Why are we having tea, anyway?" Alfe asked. "Surely this is more of an occasion for drinking ourselves into Oblivion and back?"

"And _then_ we'll need the healing properties of the sweetpulp and saltrice tea," Uupse quipped.

Alfe pointed at her in agreement. "Smart!"

"Pour it up, then," Divayth said through a bite of muffin. "I would, but I've been confined to my seat."

"For good reason," Beyte grumbled.

Alfe rose and retrieved a bottle of greef from the liquor cabinet. She brought it and five snifters back to the table and began pouring. Beyte did the same for the tea when it finished steeping.

"Before I'm too drunk to remember, there's one more thing," Divayth said. "Proctor Luciana was kind enough—if you'll believe that—to ask us to bear the honor and responsibility of seeing to Sotha Dad's remains. I will be going to the Clockwork City in the morning. You're all welcome to join me if you wish." He looked around at his audience's solemn nods and grim half-smiles and raised his glass. "Now, enough of this sobering talk," he said, and followed his words with a deep swig of greef.

They reminisced as they drank. Divayth recounted a number of stories of Sotha Sil as a parent from when the girls were too young to remember.

He thought back to the discussion he'd had with Sil all those years ago when he had first decided to make the quadruplets. He knew the two of them would always have their own pursuits that would keep them apart for long periods of time, and that it would be foolish to try to convince themselves that they could commit to life as a "typical" parental duo. But his heart was set on the idea of having kids, and so rather than propose the idea as a collaborative effort, he had simply informed Sil that he would be making children via an experimental type of asexual reproduction that he had been studying, and invited him to participate in their upbringing as much or as little as he saw fit. To his surprise and delight, Sil was not only willing but excited to devote what time he could to being in their lives.

He recalled fondly how Sotha Dad-To-Be had adjusted for their arrival, and how the Clockwork City had responded. He told them of the strange looks Sil had received from his Apostles when he would go about his business in the Brass Fortress wearing a four-child carrier—which he had fashioned himself, of course. It had a pouch on the front and back and one on each side. He spent many clicks of the gear working on that carrier, making sure it would provide maximal safety and comfort to its occupants, while still allowing its operator to perform the duties of a Clockwork God. The Apostles had quickly learned to keep their voices down when any of the babies were sleeping, for fear of waking them and getting a disappointed look from their god.

"One Apostle even threatened a factotum for talking at its normal volume when all four of you had just fallen asleep. Apparently he held some sort of tonal tool to its chest menacingly," he demonstrated by holding up a spoon gripped in his fist, "and whispered, 'Do you want to be _fetching_ dismantled?' Sotha Dad was normally protective over his factotums, but the Apostle said he had responded only with the faintest look of approval, and not a word of reprimand."

Next he brought up the times when the girls were just old enough to run around on their own, when they would go off on an adventure following a skeevaton around—probably through ventilation pipes and other less-than-ideal pathways—and end up somewhere off-limits to children, sometimes even to mortals in general. Naturally, they'd soon find themselves "arrested" and detained by Proctor Luciana. And every time, Sil would arrive within moments, before Luciana had even had the opportunity to log the incident, to calmly bail them out without so much as a lecture.

"He never admitted it, but I think he liked letting you get into places you weren't supposed to be. Sure, he's...he _was_...fond of his rules and order, but he also loved to cultivate your curiosity. And, of course, he must have known what you were doing, but he made no attempts to stop you." He took a pensive sip of tea, then chuckled softly. "Now that I think about it, he probably planted those skeevatons on your path to lead you to new and interesting parts of the city."

"He probably also knew he couldn't stop four whole copies of you from doing what we wanted, so he planted skeevatons that would lead us on the least dangerous and least destructive path possible while still keeping us interested," Delte said.

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure there was some of that, too," Divayth said with a slight smile. "And then when he'd come to get you, you'd all climb onto him and he would ignore Luciana's incredulous stares as he walked you out of her office. Do you remember that? Alfe, you liked to sit on his shoulders. I can almost hear him warning you," he sat up tall and put on his best Sotha Sil voice, "'Be careful, Alfe; make sure you duck when we go through doorways. I am very tall as it is, and I don't want you to bonk your head...' The rest of you always seemed perfectly happy to hang onto his chest or arms, wherever you could fit."

After another moment of thought, he laughed and said, "I still can't believe no one realized we were together, even through all of that. I suppose that explains why the name 'Sotha Dad' caught on so quickly among all the City's kids. Everyone must have thought you called him that because he was _like_ a father to you. And they all just shrugged and went, 'Yeah, Father of Mysteries, Sotha Dad, it works.'"

Now deep into the bottle of greef, the conversation was starting to look more like contemplative silence with the occasional utterance thrown in, rather than the other way around. It suited them just fine, though. They all had lifetimes' worth of memories to think back on. Divayth broke one of these silences when his thoughts somehow started coming out of his mouth without consulting him first; apparently he had reached a sufficient inebriation level for his filter to go offline.

"That was all so long ago. Can you believe it's been 800 years since we last saw each other? Eight hundred! That's, what, three to four normal Dunmer lives?" He rested his elbows on the table and placed his chin in his hands. "I miss him. I've missed him for a long, long time and I'm going to keep missing him forever now." He could feel his eyes filling with tears again.

The girls took notice of the sudden—albeit appropriate—shift in mood, and tried to respond appropriately despite their own drunkenness. Uupse nudged his tea at him and whispered, "Don't forget your healing tea. It'll make you feel better. Y'know, because it's for healing. If nothing else, it'll make you not feel too bad tomorrow, because it's hydrating. And it's a little tingly."

Divayth half-smiled at the attempt and took a sip of his tea before continuing his thought-stream. "How did _I_ outlive _him_? I may be old, but I'm mortal. I never even bothered to consider that he could die first, because he wasn't supposed to die at all. I don't like this feeling. Things aren't supposed to have the audacity to just _happen_ without me expecting them, at least not without giving me time to prepare. No, I do not like this one bit."

He took a breath in an attempt to steady himself and keep the ever-gathering tears firmly within his eyes, and followed it with a sip of tea. " _Damn_ Almalexia. Damn Barilzar and his damned band. Damn Azura. Does she really think this is the way to win back our love, or is this all just one prolonged act of spite? Damn her and her damned prophecies and her thrice-damned Incarnate, and damn Nerevar once more for going along with it." He gave up fighting back the tears and was now sobbing. "And damn Vivec. Where was ze for all of this? If ze can keep a giant rock from killing us all, surely ze can keep one of hir co-gods from murdering the other." He shouted into the air, "Hey, Vehk! If you can still hear our prayers: What the fuck?" He returned to his normal volume, saying, "While we're at it, damn Dumac and Kagrenac and Voryn for starting this whole thing, and damn Voryn again for turning into the Sharmat instead of just staying dead like a normal person. You know? Who _does_ that? Damn Lorkhan, too, to be thorough. And then damn Ayem a few more times; I want to make that one very clear."

He sighed loudly and rested his head on his arms on the table and mumbled, "He knew Ayem would kill him. Sure, there were other dangers along the way, but he knew if none of them got to him first, Ayem would ultimately kill him. She may have been one of his best friends, but he also considered her a threat on par with the Numidium. I wonder if he knew it would be now. Better not have. Because then he could have at least warned me or something. Or he could have called so we could see each other and talk one more time. And he didn't. So he must not have known. No, I'm sure he didn't know."

After another long pause, Delte said, "Should we acknowledge how Sotha Dad was always so nonchalant about death that he probably thinks we're all being a bunch of idiots right now?"

Divayth's shoulders shook in a weak laugh. "Eh. Let him," he said, waving a hand without lifting his head.

"Nah, don't worry. He can't hear us," Uupse said. "His body's not even exactly on this plane."

"His spirit can be on whatever plane he wants. He's a god!" Divayth said.

"You've never believed that," Uupse laughed.

"Shh, he'll hear you!" Divayth sat back up and lifted his greef. "Hey, Sil!" he shouted. "We love you, and we'll miss you! Really, we'll miss you a lot. And you're just going to have to deal with it!" He finished off his glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Sweetpulp effects: Paralyze, Levitate, Resist Paralysis, Restore Health
>   * Hackle-lo leaf: Restore Fatigue, Paralyze, Water Breathing, Restore Luck
>   * Saltrice: Restore Fatigue, Fortify Magicka, Drain Strength, Restore Health
>   * Corkbulb root: Cure Paralyzation, Restore Health, Lightning Shield, Fortify Luck
> 



End file.
